The way we live now
by petticoatannie
Summary: Richard Harrow decides that perhaps he hasn't forgotten what love is after all. Abby Fox is a nice girl. And he'd like to settle down. But her smiles hide a heartache of her own. "We all wear masks Richard". Small Richard/OC fic. Please R&R, I'm just getting into this fic business and I would appreciate it.
1. Chapter 1

Richard Harrow for the twentieth time this morning tapped his jacket pocket to make sure the book was still there. Assured it was he opened the door to the café and stepped inside, a quick assessment of the establishment determined that she wasn't there yet. He ordered a coffee at the counter and settled down at a table facing it. A waitress brought it over to him and he unfolded his newspaper and held it up to read as he waited.

His untouched coffee was cooling in its cup as the cafe door swung open, the wind blowing in a gust of briny air off the Atlantic. He lowered his paper. The attractive, lithe blonde woman that sauntered in, hips confidently swaying as she moved, was not the woman he was waiting for. Regardless he continued to observe her as Joey the manager offered the woman a table by the window. He was no doubt hoping that her classic beauty and expensively cut outfit would procure him some more custom. _Window dressing._ Richard thought. Joey pulled out a chair and she gracefully sat down. Richard saw the fat man discreetly brush some errant crumbs off the table cloth with one hand as he offered her a menu with the other. She glanced briefly at the menu, smiled and asked for coffee, passing it back to him. Joey, hot footed it back over to the counter snapping the order to the girl behind it who all but saluted the man as she got the drink ready. The woman as if sensing she was being observed turned her head slightly in Richards direction. Her blue eyes could not disguise her jolt and revulsion as she took in his masked face. Richard quickly pulled up his newspaper to save her any more distress. Besides she wasn't of anymore interest to him. She wasn't the woman he was waiting for.

No, the woman he was hoping to see could look at him straight and whilst at times he could detect a little apprehension there was never any disgust. He suspected the apprehension may have stemmed from what folks had been saying to her about the man she offered her kind smiles and small talk to. He felt the book he was carrying in his jacket pocket become heavier, as if reminding him of its purpose today. He was going to return it.

He'd started coming to the café as a way to kill time when he wasn't needed for killing anything else. It was situated near the end of the Boardwalk and did well with families, selling ices for kids to take out on to the beach. The hatch where mothers and fathers would queue up to buy the ice cream had closed now that Labor Day weekend had come and gone but the locals still came for the breakfasts and coffee. Richard had come for the peace and now he came for her. For Abby.

Abby was a waitress at the café. And Richard liked her very much. That surprised him. He wasn't used to it and that bothered him at first. Had no business liking a woman like Abby. He knew he couldn't offer her anything and surely he was a monster in her eyes. And yet she smiled at him, shyly made jokes, her laughter delighted his ear and caught his heart out. And she was beautiful. He found he wanted to unpin her chestnut hair and run his fingers through the waves, to see if it was as silky as it looked. Richard could get lost in her big brown eyes that promised of a goodness he had no right to. How he felt, it _unnerved_ him but he found he couldn't forget her, nor stay away. He knew it would all end, the smiles, the tentative beginnings of friendship. As soon as she really knew, _really knew_, what he was and what he did it would stop.

There was a lot he didn't know about her too. She wore no wedding ring nor had he heard her or the other girls talk about a sweetheart. He didn't know how she spent her time of an evening but he'd never seen her at any of the Speakeasies or supper clubs in the city. Sometimes he'd observe her in a daydream as she dried the cups and she'd seem sad but she'd shake it off as soon as anyone asked her if she was ok.

But Richard knew she liked to read. And that is why he'd been carrying about this book all morning. Two days ago she'd ran into him, literally, on the Boardwalk. The collision ended up with her on her backside on floor, the books she had been carrying, strewn about her. He had immediately offered her a hand to help her up.

"_Are you. Alright?" he'd asked as he pulled her up gently._

"_I'm fine. I'm so sorry, my momma always told me I never looked where I was going. Ow", she replied rubbing her backside. As soon as she was righted Abby knelt down and began to retrieve her books. _

"_Let me, hmm, help you", he crouched down and picked up a book. _

"_Thank you" she replied as she was kneeling and then looked up. Their faces were inches from each other. The close proximity momentarily startled them both, embarrassed Abby exhaled and Richard could feel her breath on the good side of his face. He was lost in her brown eyes. She recovered and smiled softly, a little colour blooming on her cheeks. Abby took the book from him. "I'm real sorry Mr Harrow" she apologised again. "I better go. Thanks again". And then she left. It was then after he watched her disappear into a group of people he noticed that they had missed one book on the ground. He picked it up. _

_Idylls of the King. Lord Alfred Tennyson._

He pocketed the book, glad of its presence there because returning it gave him further reason to see her.

"I thought it was only my coffee you didn't drink", said the accusing voice from behind Richard's paper. One moment he was thinking about Abby, the next she appeared. He folded his paper and set it down on the table.

"Hmm, it usually is yours. I got lost. Reading the paper", he replied. Abby laughed, holding up a coffee pot.

"Well you'll definitely not want a refill because l made this pot", she joked. The lips on Richard's good side curled up in a smile. "You want anything else? Ham and eggs is good?"

"No. Thank you Miss" Richard answered. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the book.

"Just the bill huh?" Abby said, assuming he was reaching for his wallet.

"Hmm. You left this, hmm, the other day. I kept it. For you", he held out the small book and she reached for it. Her fingers touching his for a second. Abby set down the coffee pot on his table as she thumbed through the book.

"Thank you, I thought I lost it. Did you read it?" The question surprised him. He was embarrassed to answer. He felt guilty because he had.

"I did. You like poetry?"

"Sometimes", she replied. "I like King Arthur", she shrugs.

"Knights in. Shining armor", he remarked skeptically.

"Well its only myth right?" Abby replied a little sadly and pushed the book down into the pocket of her apron. Afraid she might go too soon he spoke again.

"What else, hmm, do you like. To read?" he asked.

"Anything I can get lost it", she answered seriously. Abby nodded to him, picked up her coffee pot and moved back to the counter.

Moments later Joey came over with his bill. Richard paid and made to leave but he was stopped by a gentle tap on his arm.

"Mr. Harrow, I have an abundance of books at home. If you ever want to get lost in one, you can borrow some", Abby offered. Again she had surprised him.

"I'm not much, hmm, of a reader anymore" he admitted reminding himself of something he had said to Jimmy the first time he spoke to him.

"Oh", she replied, seemingly deflated.

"Where do you. Like to read?" he asked her.

"Sometimes at home but if the weathers nice I like to read on the beach, just down there" she leant on his body as she reached over and pointed to a spot across the way. Richard enjoyed the sensation of her small frame next to his. He just hoped she could not feel the gun he kept hidden under his jacket on that side.

"Hmm. I hope I might. See you there sometime. And I might say hello".

"I would like that Mr. Harrow" she said, almost in a whisper.

"My name is. Richard".

"Abby!" Joey called for her.

"I have to go. It was nice talking with you Richard. Thank you again", Abby let go of his arm and went back to work.

Richard walked along the Boardwalk with a smile on his half ruined face.


	2. Chapter 2

Abby fastened her coat and put on her hat as she waited for Cherry at the door. She studied her face in the mirror, tucking a few stray strands of her unruly dark hair under it. She thought of her conversation this morning with Mr Harrow and blushed. She often blushed when she thought about him. Abby Fox did not mix with many men beyond the customers at the café. She didn't really know any here in Atlantic City truth be told beyond Joey and Paul the cook. But Richard Harrow she found interesting, like a book. She wanted his story, the man in the mask. It took courage for her to approach him, at first she received a few brusque replies to her inquires about his day and what not but she persevered, she always forgave a few shaky chapters if she had faith in the book. After a while their exchanges became lengthier and more cordial, he smiled at her stupid jokes and indulged her friendly banter. But she was still no closer to the truth. She sometimes caught him looking at her as she worked and she'd smile and blush. She liked to feel his gaze upon her. Despite his mask and the horrible scar she'd heard was hidden under it, she thought he must have been and yes, still was, handsome. Whenever they had stood together Abby liked the way he'd tower over her, she felt dainty and ladylike. Abby once was just interested in his story, another tale to distract her from her own life; now she was enchanted by him.

"_You should mind that guy", Cherry warned her today as they were removing the dirty table cloths at closing time._

"_What are you talking about?" Abby replied._

"_That Harrow guy, you know what I mean", she accused._

"_I can't be friendly to a regular customer?"_

"_You know what he is right? A racketeer. A thug at a cat house, that's what I hear", Cherry put her hand on her hip. _

"_Exactly, it's what you hear. Besides, like you've never mixed with a racketeer, what about that bald headed guy who took you to the movies? Pretty sure he had more than one run with the law and several encounters with other guy's fists!" Abby countered._

"_Harry was an Ass and that's why I broke it off. Anyway I can take care of myself. Fella like that'd hurt you. You're a mouse. You barely speak to a man unless you're taking his order"._

"_Well you should be pleased I'm talking to Mr Harrow then"._

"_And the way his eye follows you around?" Cherry shuddered, continuing her disproval. "It's creepy. His mask, that's creepy. Lord knows I never want to see what's under it."_

"_Cherry that's unkind. He's a veteran". _

"_He's not the sort of guy you'd want to take home to meet your father, that's all I'm saying". _

"_It's just chit chat that's all it is", Abby assured her._

Because that's all Abby was sure it could be. And Cherry was right about one thing. He would hurt her. That's what men do after all.

Cherry and Abby linked arms as they walked along the Boardwalk at the end of the day. Cherry was rushing them along because she and Frances, another girl who worked at the café were off to a Speak tonight; her green eyes sparkled in excitement as she talked about the dress she was going to wear. She bought it cheap, took it to pieces and fixed it up into something _a la mode. _Cherry knew a thing or two about style. She'd bobbed her red hair and everyday as soon as they'd finished work, Cherry slicked on a red lipstick. Abby didn't even wear makeup. Not anymore.

"So are you coming or not?" Cherry asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Where?"

"The Speak, me and Frances are going to" Cherry rolled her eyes.

"In all the time you've known me have I ever said yes?"

"No, but I'm not giving up on you Abby Fox, you seem like such a pill but I know that deep down that's not the real you", Cherry grinned; her slightly crooked upper teeth that didn't even detract from how beautiful she was.

The two waitresses lived close enough together to walk virtually all the way home which was a comfort in the dark evenings. They reached Cherry's home first. She lived with her aunt who turned a blind eye to her nieces evening activities as long as the rent money kept coming in. Abby hugged her friend, told her to be smart tonight and hurried on home herself.

Abby had a room on the top floor a boarding house a few streets away, it cost her a little more because she had her own kitchenette and bathroom so most of her income went on the rent but she managed, in these walls she was safe. And feeling safe was worth the sacrifice of nice things. This was her home now, her sanctuary, the books the only things she had took with her. Once inside her room she removed her coat and kicked off her shoes. Abby retrieved the book Richard had returned to her from her purse and clasped it to her chest. With a sigh she walked into her little bathroom, setting the book down upon the dresser and ran herself a bath.

She slipped off her dress and stockings and eased into the warm water. Abby pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall over her shoulders. She sometimes thought about taking some scissors to it and cutting it short. If she wasn't careful when she would brush it the memory of hands running through the length would come to her so vividly the pain of the recall would knock the breath out of her and she'd curl up and sob until it had passed.

It was only defiance that stopped her. He had taken everything else. _No more_, she told herself. _No more._

She reached across to the dresser for her book. Abby noticed the fresh smell of cologne. Not hers, but his, she breathed it in deeply. The book had been in his pocket and had come back to her with a little bit of him on the pages. She imagined it tucked inside his pocket near his heart. She opened it and ran her fingers along the pages. He said he had read it, she found herself wishing it was him rather than the paper she was touching. With a helpless groan she let the book drop to the floor over the side of the bath and she sunk under the water.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until four weeks later that Richard came across Abby, her nose in a book, upon the beach where she said she liked to read. He hadn't been able to get back to the café in that time, events at The Artemis Club kept him busy. He didn't want any of his troubles following him there lest it harmed her. But that business had settled and he felt comfortable enough now to seek her out.

He found her sat on a checked blanket on the sand, leaning back upon the columns. She was wrapped up in a navy blue wool coat, knees up, her black stockinged feet flat against the blanket, giving him a fine view of her shapely calves and ankles as the wind whipped her dress skirts about. Her hair was mostly tucked under her hat although Richard could see the wind had gotten hold of some of that, blowing long strands of chestnut curls in all directions. He walked across the sand to greet her.

"Good Afternoon", he greeted her. Abby looked up from her book and brushed aside some of her hair. The wind had caught her cheeks which were blooming in a bright rose color. Her brown eyes were bright and vital, she looked beautiful and wild.

"Good Afternoon Mr Harrow", she smiled warmly.

"Richard, mmm, please", he reminded her.

Abby shimmied further to the right of her blanket and motioned for him to sit down.

"Please park yourself, Richard".

He sat down beside her, pleased the good side of his face would be the side she was next to. He stretched out his legs and noticed that she copied him. He smiled to himself.

"What's so funny?" she inquired.

"Your legs. Are short", he nodded to their outstretched limbs side by side. She looked down at her short legs beside his long ones and laughed. It was a melody that warmed him.

"I'm not short, you're just too tall", she nudged him with her shoulder playfully. Richard rested his hands upon his thighs, keeping them still. Abby put her book down and they sat in a companionable silence for a moment just looking at the waves crash onto the shore.

"I haven't seen you for a while", she remarked.

"Mmm, I've been busy", Richard replied. "I hoped I'd see you today". He turned his head to gauge her reaction and was encouraged when he saw that that this had pleased her. "What are you reading?"

Abby picked up the book again and passed it to him, she seemed embarrassed.

"Poems by Wilfred Owen", she replied. "He was this British poet, died in the war. This other poet, that made it through… his friend, he got some of his work together and got it published…"

He looked at the cover of the book and he nodded in acknowledgement. He didn't want to talk about the war. Abby was sweet, clean and unmarred. He didn't want to dirty the moment he didn't want it to dirty her. He tossed the book on the sand.

"I just…wanted to, I don't know…well, I know you and I guess I want to understand" Abby explained.

"No one can understand. Unless you were there. You can't so don't try". Richard didn't mean to snap at her but he did.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to offend you, or upset you…"she apologised. Abby was visibly upset fresh tears of embarrassment swam in her wide eyes threatening to spill over.

She got on to her knees suddenly, leaning over him to pick up the book. Instinctively Richard grabbed hold of her wrist tightly to prevent her, fearing she would leave once she had gathered her things up. Abby gasped in shock and then tried to pull her wrist away.

"Let go", she asked him, trying to keep her voice level.

Ashamed Richard dropped her wrist immediately. He looked down at the blanket as she grabbed the book and then turned from him to place the book in her basket but she didn't move away.

"Are you alright?" he asked her after moment. Abby did not reply but nodded and looked away, he saw her hand move to her face and he knew she was wiping her tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Mmm. Or to frighten you", Richard continued. He felt awful and sick in his stomach. He'd ruined everything.

"It's okay", she assured him in a quiet voice.

"Did I hurt you?" he had to ask, his hands gripping together tightly.

"No, I'm fine. My Momma always told me to mind my own business. Please let's just forget it", she turned to him once more, putting on a smile, despite watery eyes that would betray her.

"Your mother dispenses a lot of advice", Richard remarked trying to change the subject though he could feel something had changed between them.

"Well she sure did try".

"Are you from Atlantic City?" he asked her. Richard doubted it; she had an accent that was not native to the area.

"I'm from the south", Abby replied, he noticed she was twisting on a button on her coat that was loose upon its thread, she was uncomfortable. "What about you?"

"Wisconsin. Mmm. Where in the south?"

"Just down south", was all she revealed.

They continued to make small talk upon the weather, places they liked along the Boardwalk, cities they'd like to see, he talked about Tommy, though he didn't elaborate much upon what exactly was his business with Tommy's family and soon enough the spark returned and it felt comfortable again. They sat together as it grew colder and later. Abby mentioned she ought to be getting home and Richard stood to help her off the sand, she took his hand confidently, seemingly forgiving him for his earlier behaviour. He shook the sand off her blanket, folded it up and tucked it in her basket which he insisted on carrying as he walked beside her to the Boardwalk.

"Would you. Like me to drive you home?" he offered. Abby considered this for a moment.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you, I would like that", she replied and Richard offered his arm which she smiled and accepted.

It felt right, their arms linking together as they made their way across the Boardwalk. Richard didn't even mind the stares folk were giving them, because he felt Abby hold him closer as the cold night air drew in around them. When they reached the car, he held the door open for her and helped her in. Once they were both inside Abby rubbed her hands together. She was chilly. Without saying a word, Richard took off his coat and gently wrapped it around her shoulders, as he did so his mask brushed against her cheek and Abby drew back.

"I'm sorry", Richard said sadly.

"It's cold. It surprised me, that's all", Abby giggled and shrugged. Then Richard felt her hand upon his good cheek. Her skin was soft, her touch gentle. Her thumb stroked along the contours. "Well, this side is not much warmer" she remarked and then she suddenly surprised him by placing a chaste kiss upon it. He felt himself blush.

"There, that should heat it up a little", Abby removed her hand and looked straight ahead out of the windscreen.

Richard smiled. It was more than he deserved today.

Abby gave him her address and off they set. Things were quiet again, both seemingly content in their own thoughts. Richard was glad for the silence. He was so happy he was afraid he might have burst out how much he liked her, how much he wanted to kiss her. And kiss her properly. Momentarily the memory of her calves in stockings crept into his mind. He imagined himself peeling them off her, of feeling her bare skin, he'd like to kiss her there too. He wondered if it would make her sigh. He thought of her petite legs lying entwined with his own in bed. He thought of how her small body would feel under the size his own. They'd take their time and he'd be gentle, he'd be so gentle with her. He felt his face flush again and he tried to stop thinking about it. Abby was a nice girl. Jimmy had told him he'd find a nice girl and would settle down. He never believed it. Not really. And yet here was this nice girl, who was funny and sweet and who it seemed liked him. Honestly and without pity. Not like Odette or any of the girls back at the house who either felt sorry for him or tried to get him into their beds for the novelty of having the masked killer underneath them. And then reality struck him like a knife in the gut. That's who he was. He was a killer. A murderer, it didn't matter he took out people who were dirty, who knew the risks. It didn't matter if he saw them as soldiers in a war. Abby wouldn't see it the way he saw it. He'd take her goodness and sully it with his own darkness. He'd take her freshness and destroy it. She would be afraid of him, not just of his scars but because of who he was; what he's done. She would be afraid of him and he didn't think he could bear that.

"Richard?" her voice disturbed his thoughts.

"Hmm, I'm sorry. Did you ask me something?"

"I asked if you had ever heard of the Troubadour Club." Abby inquired.

"The Speakeasy?" he answered, confused. He knew The Troubadour, the Darmody's had invested in it as a little side line and sometimes he went along to check on that investment.

"Yeah. It's Frances' birthday tomorrow night and I'm being dragged along", she sighed.

"I've never seen you in a Speak", Richard confessed. "You don't seem, mmm, that type of girl".

"Are you saying I'm a bluenose?" Abby arched her eyebrows and the both of them smiled. "Anyway I hear you go to them".

Richard didn't like where this conversation might go and he certainly didn't like what people might have been saying to her about him.

"Sometimes. Not as much now", he confessed guiltily.

"Well they're not my scene but they've asked and asked for so long and I promised I'd go" she sighed. "This is my building, right here" she pointed out a large boarding house on the corner. Richard pulled up a long side it and he got out, running round the front of the car to open the door for Abby. She took his hand as she stepped out and didn't let it go as they stood on the pavement.

"Your coat", she reminded him and he carefully removed it from her shoulders. "Thank you for the drive home".

"Hmm, you're welcome".

Abby stood still, expectantly. Was she waiting for him to kiss her? Richard tentatively placed his gloved hand upon her cheek, when she didn't recoil but instead closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his palm he knew that she was. He leaned down and gently placed his lips or as much as he could of them upon her own. He felt her lips curl up into a smile and then he stepped back.

"The Troubadour hmm? " Richard asked.

"Tomorrow night. About ten I think" Abby nodded.

"That's. Good to know".

"Goodnight Richard", Abby bid him.

"Goodnight Abby" he replied.

He watched her safely inside the boarding house and then got back into the car. He drove off with a burning in his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

"I always knew you'd look swell once we'd got you all dolled up", Cherry took a long drag on her cigarette as she assessed Abby's appearance. "It's amazing what a little kohl, a bit of rouge and some lipstick can do".

It was amazing what they could do, Abby felt someone new and yet at the same time it was familiar to her. Frances and Cherry took her in hand, they loaned her a pale green dress from a pal of theirs because Abby '_simply didn't have anything suitable'_ to wear and none of their dresses fit her. This one, despite being beautifully cut and beaded perhaps was a little small as well but Abby confessed she did like wearing it. The shoes she borrowed from Cherry did fit her, although they were a little higher than they were used to. Abby could tell they were delighted to have a real live doll to dress for the evening and Abby had never seen Frances concentrate on anything as much as she did when she applied her makeup for her. Abby had to bite her tongue to stop telling her she knew how to paint her own face and dress her own hair perfectly well.

She gripped her glass tightly as someone knocked into her from behind when they jostled to get by in the busy speak. Despite looking the part she certainly wasn't feeling at ease. The chatting, laughter, loud jazz music, the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol made her head spin. Abby looked around the room again.

"He's not here peach", Frances leaned back against the brick work and narrowed her grey eyes at her. Abby felt herself blush at being caught out. Frances brushed a little cigarette ash off her red dress and then knocked back some whiskey. "Why don't we go and chat to those nice young fellas by the bar? My glass is running dry" She smiled wickedly at the pair of them and slinked away, leaving Abby and Cherry to follow her lean frame to the bar.

Abby watched as Frances tapped her painted nails on the wooden bar as she waited for the bar keep, the men there were already paying attention to the trio of off duty waitresses but Frances merely looked them over and turned away as if bored already. Cherry had told her this was Frances' _thing_ and it never failed. True enough it worked as one of the fella's introduced himself to her and he and his pals offered to buy the girls a drink. Of course Abby thought it helped when you had a stylish figure and a beautiful face like Frances'.

Abby reluctantly accepted a whiskey from the shorter of the men and thanked him. She hadn't even finished her first one but she didn't want her friends to think her a pill by nursing one drink all evening so she topped up her new glass with what remained in the old. She moved away to the corner a little away from the hustle of the bar, he followed. He was talking to her; she didn't really hear or was even interested in what he was saying. Abby nodded and smiled along vacantly hoping he would soon get bored and go away. She looked to her friends; Cherry was sat upon the lap of heavy set blond man and was laughing at whatever bawdy joke he just told her. Frances was perched coolly on the edge of a stool, smoking and looking disinterested at the black haired fella who was completely enthralled with her.

"Say, what's your name?" the shorter man asked her.

"Abby" she replied quietly.

"Earl", he pointed at himself. Abby nodded in acknowledgement. "You're a lot quieter than your friends. But a hell of a lot more pretty."

Abby blushed at his compliment, not because she was pleased he offered it but because it made her feel uncomfortable. It was unwelcome from his lips. Perhaps he was a very nice man, he had bought her the drink and he wasn't pawing her like legs like some of the guys here were doing after all. But she didn't like it all the same. He began chatting to her again, getting closer to her as he prattled on. Abby was backed up against the brick wall so far she wanted to be absorbed into it so she could disappear. His liquored breath was hot on her face. Earl planted his arm above her on the wall, almost trapping her. He'd stopped talking now and was regarding her intently.

"Is this better?" he whispered in her ear.

"Better for what?" she jerked her head away.

"I get it, you're shy. It's ok, I like that but we're in this alcove now so no one can see. All alone" Earl explained and leaned in for a kiss. Abby felt sick, she began to tremble and her heart beat faster.

"I don't think so!" Abby dodged his lips and stepped aside but he rounded on her, grabbing her wrist. The second time this had happened in so many days. Even though Richard's grasp was solid it did not pinch into her flesh with malice like Earl's did.

"Look doll I bought you a drink" Earl accused; perturbed by her rejection.

"And I said thank you", Abby stood her ground.

Earl slammed his fist on wall beside her head.

"Lady said the banks closed pal, so beat it" Frances stood behind the man. Her voice was firm and full of warning. Earl sniffed in derision and adjusted his tie. It was plain he couldn't bully two women together and so he walked away but not without a parting barb.

"Cold bitch", Earl slumped away.

"You know, I can't tell whether he was talking about me or you", Frances lit herself another smoke and winked at Abby.

Frances put an arm around her trembling friend and walked her back to Cherry who was now sat on a stool by the bar talking to a tall man who had his back to them.

"There she is", Cherry smiled when Abby came into view. The tall figure she was with turned to them and Abby exhaled deeply when she saw it was Richard.

"What did I miss?" Cherry asked as Abby came to stand beside them at the bar. Abby shook her head embarrassed.

"Some Peckerhead thinking he was irresistible. Nothing new for pretty girls like us, eh Peach", Frances explained, offering Cherry a cigarette and then Richard. He shook his head, not taking his eye off Abby.

"Are you alright?" he asked Abby, he was gripping a rag cloth in hands tightly. She noticed he was absent his usual jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Abby was afraid her voice would crack and reveal she wasn't quite alright so she just nodded. "Here. Hmm, take a seat". He pulled out a stool for her and helped her on it. She caught Cherry and Frances exchanging knowing looks. Abby rested her forearm along the bar. Richard stood behind her and settled his arm alongside it; she could feel his warm skin against hers. His fingers lightly touching her hand, she was reassured by his presence.

"I've been keeping Mr Harrow here company as he restocked some of the bar", Cherry raised her eyes at Abby.

"You..." Abby paused to clear her throat. She was right about her voice being croaky. "You work here?" she asked him, trying not to sound too judgemental. People had told her he was a racketeer, a bootlegger. She hadn't had any reason to believe it up until now.

"Sometimes. Hmm. I work where I am needed", he explained, only to Abby. "Would you. Hmm, like another drink?" He motioned to the bar keep who came over.

"Love to" Frances replied, sidling up to the bar.

"Thanks sport", Cherry answered.

Abby shook her head and the bar keep poured her two friends another round of whiskey.

They listened quietly to Cherry and Frances laugh about the men who they'd previously met. Abby felt Richard tense up when Frances relayed to Cherry how she found Abby backed up into the wall trying to avoid his attentions. She made it sound so casual and light when Abby had been afraid enough to think she might throw up. Abby became aware of Richard's thumb smoothing small circles on the back of her hand. She looked back up at him and his eye met hers, he seemed bothered by what he had heard.

"I'm going to dance", Frances declared suddenly and she pulled Cherry off her stool to drag her along. "You coming peach?" she addressed Abby.

"Not right now thank you" Abby replied.

She and Richard watched them as they disappeared into the throng of people dancing wildly to the music.

Richard's hand broke contact as he settled down on a stool beside her. Abby spun around on her seat so that she facing the bar but still not facing him. His hand came to rest beside hers once more and she stared at them. She liked the way his dwarfed hers. His fingers were long and fine. He had handsome hands.

"Why does the blond one call you peach?" Richard asked her.

"Frances thinks I'm from Georgia. I'm not" she admitted.

"Are you. Hmm, really okay. He didn't hurt you?" he asked darkly.

"No", she replied.

"Hmm" was all he said to that and nodded but Abby knew he didn't believe her.

"You look. Very nice", Richard told her.

Abby flushed with pleasure.

"The dress is a loan", she explained. "It's a little snug. I'm a little thicker than the desirable figure my friends have", Abby looked down at her feet.

"You are. Very beautiful Abby" this time he looked down at his feet. Her cheeks felt very warm, she must have been blushing scarlet!

"You're not bad yourself. Rather handsome actually", Abby said gently. Richard scoffed and turned away, shaking his head. "You don't believe me?" He pulled his hand away from hers and clasped his own together on his knees under the bar.

"I know what I look like", he told her, solemnly.

"Then you don't see what I see" Abby tentatively placed her hand over his and squeezed gently.

"I couldn't see you. Hmm, when I arrived. I saw your friend alone. I didn't think you'd come". Richard said and he allowed her to enlace their fingers. "I thought that. You'd told me because you, hmm, wanted me to come too".

"I did. I'm glad you came. These places, they make me anxious", she confessed. He turned to look at her directly, as if surprised.

"This is not the first gin joint I've been to Officer", she laughed. "Sure in Atlantic City, but I've known a couple back in…well back down south. My friends, they know how to act and what to say. I can't do that, especially now. And now I remember why I don't like to come. I guess I feel…intimidated".

"The man? He made you feel that way?" Richard asked, keeping his gaze upon the bar.

"I um…" Abby trailed off, she didn't know how to reply. She wanted to be honest and admit it. But she'd been editing her life for so long she wouldn't know how. He startled her by suddenly disentangling their fingers. He rose quickly from the stool to face the mass of party goers.

"Is he still here?" he inquired, scanning the crowd.

"I don't know", Abby answered feeling a little uncomfortable, fretful even. "It doesn't matter".

"Do I make you feel like that?" he asked her dejectedly.

"No, no of course not", Abby soothed, hopping off her stool to go to him. "I wish I never brought it up. I'm always saying the wrong thing and putting my foot in it". She started to feel awful again, the events of the evening playing on her and she could feel the hot sting of tears in her eyes ready to fall. She wanted to go home. Abby bit her lip, to stop it from wobbling.

"He scared you. I don't like that. He should apologise", Richard told her.

"I don't he's inclined to care", she said snivelling a little. Abby hated how pathetic it made her look. "I wish I socked him on the nose".

"If we see him. Hmm, I'll hold him still. You can take a shot", he offered.

Abby laughed at that and smudged away the briefest of tears.

"I think I want to go home now", she exhaled.

"I'll walk you", Richard said simply.

"Thank you. I have to say goodbye to my friends". Richard nodded and waited as she made away to them on the other side of room.

They begged for her to stay, promising one moron doesn't mean the night wouldn't get any better. Abby assured them she'd had a good time already but was tired and wanted to go home. They were not surprised at all that Mr Harrow would be escorting her. They were worried though and she had to assure them that she was perfectly safe with him. Cherry wasn't as convinced as Frances. She hugged her friends and wished Frances a Happy Birthday and then walked back to where Richard stood. He'd put on his jacket and held his coat over his arm.

"Do you. Hmm. Have a coat with you?" he asked her. She shook her head and once again he wrapped it around her.

"It'll trail on the floor. I don't want to get it dirty", she protested.

"Doesn't matter. You'll be warm", he replied. She could see he would brook no argument but she gathered up the ends anyway and held them to stop them catching on the ground.

He offered his arm and he escorted her out of the club.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: Thank you for my 1**__**st**__** review ILoveThee. It's encouraging to know people are reading.**_

Richard and Abby had only walked for ten minutes or so before it started raining hard. They sheltered in doorways and under trees along the way. Abby held Richard's coat above her head as they stood pressed together taking respite from the rainfall.

"Won't you take this back, I feel terrible", Abby had insisted he take back the coat each time they stopped.

"No. I wish I had, hmm, offered to drive you", he told her, not that he had the car though that night or he definitely would have.

"You're not my chauffeur. I feel awful; you could be nice and dry inside The Troubadour chatting to some pretty girl", she said guiltily as a fat raindrop fell from her nose.

"I am. Now", he told her.

"Pardon?" But she didn't hear him.

Richard wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her home but he did not have the nerve. She looked terribly cold and wet. The rain had long washed away the dark makeup that had made her dark eyes even more dazzling earlier on. When he saw her walking up to the bar with her friend Frances he could not believe it was her. She looked so beautiful, he was momentarily stunned. Her pretty green dress had clung to her body in all the right places, from the swell of her breasts to the curve of waist and over her hips; he didn't understand what she meant by not having a desirable figure. She looked perfectly lovely to him. And he wasn't the only one who thought so after listening to how Frances found her, backed into a corner by some sap who thought he could do what he liked because he bought a drink. He didn't like that at all. It had shaken her up; he could see it on her face. He'd always thought she was a shy girl and because of that he admired the way she had struck up conversation with him first. He thought that was brave. And he felt special because of it. It was probably lucky that they didn't see the guy again. Lucky for the guy. Richard was bothered to hear that men intimidated her, he wanted to hear the reason for it but he wouldn't press her on the subject. He wasn't sure he believed her when she told him that he didn't intimidate her. Perhaps not now, if she ever saw him without this tin, she might change her mind.

Abby shivered in her dress under her 'coat tent'. The fabric was soaking, sticking to her skin, he could see the outline of her figure and he felt a little ashamed at the surge of desire. Richard ached to press her to him; he didn't think he knew how.

"I should have found a taxi cab", Abby said interrupting his thoughts.

"We're not. Far now", he pointed out. They waited a few moments more before dashing out again.

The relief at finally reaching Abby's boarding house was palpable for both of them. Richard walked her right up to the door. He was about to bid her farewell when she reached out and held on to his jacket sleeve. Abby looked up at him through long wet eyelashes. His eye followed a drop of rain as it fell from her ear, ran over her décolletage and disappear down into the front of her dress. He had to pause to swallow hard.

"Please, you should come inside and dry off", Abby told him.

Richard hesitated. He did want to get out of this rain but part of him knew it wasn't quite proper, which amused him coming from a man who wore a gun and slept in a whorehouse. He also needed to remove his mask, not something he wished to do in Abby's company. He could feel the skin under the tin itch, he needed to get home and take the damn thing off.

"I don't want to get. You, hmm, into any trouble", he replied.

"My landlady is at her sisters in Boston and the O'Brien's are virtually deaf. A cup of cocoa and a towel. It's quite respectable I assure you", Abby smiled and despite his better judgement Richard nodded and allowed himself to be led into the house.

He followed her up three flights of stairs to the top of the house. Abby slipped her hand into her little purse again and once more pulled out the set of keys. She opened the door and flicked on the light switch.

"Come on in", she instructed.

Richard felt a frisson of excitement at being allowed into her rooms. He cautiously stepped inside and took it in. The first thing he noticed was the large brass bed. It was generously made up with a patchwork quilt and several knitted pillows. He thought it looked very comfortable and inviting. A thought he quickly shook off. He looked around again. A large window was opposite the door, the mustard yellow curtains were already drawn together; in front of it sat a writing desk and stool. To the right of that was an armchair draped in crocheted blanket and a worn fabric footstool. All around the room were shelves, filled with books. She hadn't been joking when she told him she had an abundance of them. Abby closed the door behind him and he watched as she took off his coat and hung it on the back of the door. She moved to the window and threw her purse on writing desk.

"Damn shoes", she muttered as she sat upon the armchair to undo their buckles. Richard removed his hat and held it in front of him, still not moving any further into her home.

"I'll get you a towel, take off your jacket. You can hang it on the back of that chair by the radiator, so it'll dry out." Abby instructed him as she disappeared into a little side room. He was reluctant to take it off because he knew his holster and gun was underneath it. He hardly wore a holster, the night he does he's asked to remove his jacket? As soon as he had seen Cherry, he'd taken it off and slipped it under the bar at the speak. He knew that she had noticed but he wasn't sure if she had mentioned it to Abby. He'd put it back on as Abby bid her friends goodnight. As he was deliberating what to do Abby came back in to the room with a towel for him. She looked disappointed as she saw he was standing awkwardly in the exact same spot where she had left him.

"Oh…Richard…have I done something wrong by asking you in?" she asked, holding out the towel. "I just didn't want you to catch a cold or something; you've been kind enough to see me back. I don't make a habit of asking men back to my room, if that's what you think. You're the first." Abby admitted clearly embarrassed.

"I didn't, hmm, want to take off my jacket", Richard confessed. He felt like an idiot for making her feel uncomfortable.

"Why not?"

Richard moved to the wooden chair and set down his cap and undid the buttons on his jacket. He pulled it off and hung it, as instructed on the back. He then accepted the towel Abby was still holding out in front of her. Her eyes were focused on his holster.

"You carry a gun", she said quietly. Richard nodded.

He watched her expression carefully, waiting for any indication of fear. Her eyes were still focused on it but her mind was somewhere else, like she was recalling something past.

"Do you still. Hmm, want me to stay?" He asked, unsure himself of what he wanted her to say.

"It makes sense I suppose", was all she replied. "Bootlegging is a risky business."

He nodded again. That's all she thought he did and he didn't want to elaborate on it. She looked up at him then, her wide brown eyes locked on his. They asked a question of their own. Richard took a step towards her, she stepped back.

"Abby…" he started ready to reassure her.

"It's alright. I'm being naïve. I know what you do. It's just the reality of it and I'm going to have to get used it if we're going to be friends." She shook her head and sighed, as if snapping herself out of the moment. "Do you want cocoa?"

"No. Thank you", he replied.

"It's better than my coffee", she joked. "I'm making a big mug so you can change your mind", she padded by him to the small kitchenette in the corner of the room and filled a pan with some milk and set it on the lit stove top. "Mind that doesn't boil over, I'm just going to get out of this dress. I'm dripping all over the floor". She smiled shyly at him. Richard waited until she had returned to the little side room; he presumed was the bathroom, before removing his holster and colt and then his waistcoat. He sat down upon the chair and threw the towel around his shoulders.

"Damnit!" Richard heard her curse from the bathroom.

"Is everything. Alright?" he called out to her.

"I'm…well Richard, I'm sort of stuck in my dress", she said sheepishly. "I can't pull it off its too wet and I can't reach the buttons at the back".

"Oh", he replied simply. He knew he was the solution to this. "Shall I, hmm, help?"

Abby was quiet as she thought over his offer.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to get it off any other way", she replied as she emerged from the bathroom very red faced.

She'd unpinned her hair and it was laid over her shoulder, the rain had made it dark and glossy like molasses. Richard rose from the chair and she settled in front of him. Abby spun around to allow him access. He couldn't believe his hands were shaking as he reached for the first button. He shot Manny Horvitz in the face without a tremor but he couldn't undo a button?

The first button presented a challenge but the second was easier and so was the third. He took his time through necessity and also because he was enjoying the intimacy. He knew that his fingers did not need to linger upon the skin of her back quite so much but he needed to touch her. He wanted to lean down a little and press his lips on the curve of her neck. At the fourth button he reached the top of her slip and Richard decided to stop there and boldly he pushed apart the sides of her dress, thumbs running across her shoulder blades as he did so. He could hear Abby's breathing hitch and she stepped forward, breaking contact. He knew that he'd gone too far.

"Thank you", she whispered but she didn't turn around.

"I think. The milk is burning", was all he found he could say and went to stir the pan.

She briefly left the room again but returned covered up in a white nightdress. She'd removed her stockings and Richard tried not to stare too much at her calves. She bid him sit on the arm chair as she finished the cocoa. He sat down quietly and peeked behind the curtain to see it was still raining heavily.

Abby brought over two mugs of cocoa and set them down on the desk and settled on the stool at his feet. She hugged her knees to her chest and smiled; bashful. He offered her the armchair but she shook her head. They shared a few moments of companionable silence. Abby sipped her cocoa and Richard only held his, warming his hands.

"Why won't you drink in front of me?" she asked suddenly.

"What, hmm, do you mean?"

"You don't drink at the café when I'm there. You haven't touched my cocoa", she was very observant. "I'm beginning to thinks its personal" she smiled so he knew she was joking at that.

"It's difficult. Hmm, with the mask". He admitted, shifting in the armchair, embarrassed.

"I see. Well you don't have to be embarrassed" she said simply. She was regarding him intently, almost urging him to drink the cocoa. He looked at the mug in his hand and mulled it over. He liked Abby, more than liked her, he wanted her. She was part of what he'd wished for. If this was to work between them he should be able to relax enough to do normal things like enjoy a mug of cocoa she'd made him. He glanced down to Abby who as if sensing his internal battle had focused her attention upon the floor. Richard sipped the drink, knocked his head back and quickly wiped away at his mouth. It was very good cocoa.

"You can stay here tonight if you like", Abby surprised him. "On that arm chair, under the blanket", she added quickly blushing furiously.

Richard let out a little laugh at that. But he couldn't stay, no matter how tempting the offer, he had to get back. To check on Tommy and to take off this blasted mask. And to be alone. He could not easily put aside the memory of her holding his hand, the feel of her wet body pressed up against him in the rain, or of the way she looked in her green dress and of him unbuttoning it for her. Though the idea shamed him he couldn't deny himself, he had urges as all men did. He'd been fighting arousal all night, he couldn't stay.

"Thank you but, hmm, I can't", he replied, standing up.

"Ok", she said, rising with him. He knew she watched him as he put back on his holster and jacket. "Thank you for walking me home".

She looked so pure standing there in her white gown, her brown eyes so innocent and trusting. He couldn't help himself. He gently stroked her cheek with the side of this hand.

"Can I, hmm, kiss you. Goodnight?" he asked her. Abby, to his pleasure, nodded.

"Yes please" she quietly gave him her permission. Richard knelt down and placed the side of his lips upon hers. Abby placed her arms around his neck and he could tell she had stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back. He wanted to kiss her properly but couldn't, not just yet. He removed his lips gently from hers and held her in his arms for a while. He felt ridiculously pleased with himself when he heard her whimper in disappointment at the break of the kiss.

"Hmm, I have to go", he carefully unwound her arms from his neck and kissed her cheek impulsively. Abby didn't say a word as she followed him to the door; he picked up his coat and slung it over his arm, intending to put it on once he was downstairs. Abby rested her head on the doorframe as she watched him leave. He wanted to run back and kiss her once more. But he didn't.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thanks again for reviews and follows. **_

Gillian had instructed Richard to take Tommy out to the flea circus, she was seemingly troubled by something but Richard found he wasn't interested enough to ask if she was alright. He hadn't the chance in over a week to see Abby, he buttoned up Tommy's coat and put his hat on and ushered him outside quickly, keen to stop by the café on the way and pay her a visit. He chatted to Tommy as they made their way, explaining that he would like to call on a friend who worked at the café and hoped that Tommy and she would get along. Tommy was of the opinion that if Richard liked her then he would too. As they got closer to the café Richard felt himself feeling nervous about seeing her. She had held his hand; let him kiss her and helped her undress and yet not a word had been spoken about the nature of their relationship.

Richard pushed opened the door to the café and he and Tommy stepped inside. His heart double paced when he saw Abby pop out from the kitchen, her apron had come loose and she was tightening the strings behind her. She hadn't seen him just yet and he allowed himself those few moments to appreciate her form without being observed. Once the apron was secure she looked up and she found him immediately. She was surprised for a second but seemed to recover as she beamed brightly.

"Hey", Abby greeted them as they sat down at his usual table. "Stolen a kid for the day?"

"This is Tommy", Richard explained. Abby came over to the table her order book in hand. "Tommy this is my friend Abby", he introduced them.

"How do you do Tommy?" Abby held out her hand and Tommy shook it.

"I'm okay", Tommy replied. "We're going to the circus".

"Well that sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon. Say, would you like a nice malt; my treat?"

Tommy nodded shyly and Abby pulled a pencil from her behind her ear and scribbled it on the pad.

"And for Sir?" she asked and then leaned in closer to him conspiratorially. "I'm sorry Mister, you gotta pay for yours". Abby eyes twinkled mischievously as she pulled away. Richard was completely smitten.

"Coffee" he replied.

"Coming right up", she let them know and returned to the counter to make their drinks. He watched her as she worked she looked up and caught him doing so. She blushed but smiled and carried on.

Abby brought their order over on a tray. She slid a plate with a brown sticky cake on it in front of Tommy.

"I got you this too" Abby said crouching down beside Tommy on the chair. She pointed out Joey's wife in the kitchen. "You see Mrs Ford over there, she makes _the best_ fudge cake in _the whole_ of New Jersey and this was the last slice. I didn't want you to miss out".

"Thanks" Tommy smiled at her. He was as charmed as Richard was.

"Cute kid" Abby said as she put his coffee down on the table. Richard nodded and Abby slipped off back to work and he focused upon Tommy to not make Abby feel self-conscious.

Richard had thought about her every day since she had invited her up to her rooms. He had thought about her every night too which he was a little embarrassed about now that he was in her company again. He'd have liked to see her alone, to talk to her, maybe try and kiss her again. But getting time away from The Artemis club was proving difficult and he increasingly did not like leaving Tommy there with just Gillian. It was no place for a young boy to be growing up. He would just have to be satisfied with seeing her at work today.

When Abby brought over their bill, she was wearing her coat and hat.

"Here" she handed it him, he glanced quickly and saw it was just for the coffee, like she said. "Last job and I'm done for the day. It was nice meeting you Tommy".

"Are you coming to the circus with us?" Tommy asked suddenly; cake crumbs still around his mouth.

"Well I wasn't. I've not been invited and I wouldn't want to impose", she replied embarrassed. "Please don't think I just assumed…"

"We'd like. You to come. Wouldn't we?" Richard interrupted, rising from his seat. He hadn't expected her to be free; he didn't want to lose this opportunity. She looked unsure.

"Is that alright Tommy?" Abby asked carefully.

Tommy nodded. A pretty face and a slice of cake made very good first impressions Richard thought.

"Then okay. I haven't been before" she told them brightening up.

He paid the bill and let Tommy lead the way to the circus.

They walked around at least twice, dodged the spitting camels, pet the elephants trunks, threw bean sacks at tin cans and Tommy and Abby ate candy floss. Richard had impressed at the shooting bar, winning both Tommy and Abby a windmill each. Abby worn out by the adventure and the walk back to the boardwalk sat upon the steps going down to the beach. He told Tommy he could have some time on the sand, skimming pebbles into the ocean as long as he didn't get dirty or wet and stayed in view. Richard sat beside her as they watched Tommy play.

"Thank you for my prize" she said. "You're a good shot. Did they teach you that in the army?" Abby suddenly cringed. "I'm sorry, we don't have to…"

"I already knew how to shoot. Before I joined up, Hmm, my sister taught me. I was a sharpshooter, hmm, in the war".

"You have a sister? Is she older?" she asked.

"A twin."

"Oh, really? Does she live in Atlantic City?"

"No. In Wisconsin. Do you have any brothers or sisters?" he asked her. He didn't really want to discuss Emma; the memories were too painful for him. He wanted to know more about her.

"A brother" she replied cautiously. Richard sensed she was reluctant as he to talk about family so he did not press her on it.

"Tommy's a good boy" Abby said. "I'm sorry about his parents".

"His mother was. A good woman. His father, a good friend" Richard told her sadly.

"You miss them" it was an observation more than a question.

"Everyday".

A silence fell between them as they watched Tommy by the shore. Abby yawned quietly and Richard found himself slipping an arm around her and pulling her close so she could rest her head under his shoulder. She hesitated a little before settling down but still felt rigid and he realised that she was worried about his gun.

"It's okay. Hmm, it's on the other side" he reassured her.

"I'm sorry".

"Don't apologise. I wouldn't want, hmm, anything to hurt you." He felt her relax and slip her arm around his back under his coat. He heard her sigh into his chest and he wished that he could feel her breath on his skin through the layers of clothes.

"I'm from Charleston", she revealed suddenly.

"I haven't seen my sister. For a very long time" he answered with one truth of his own.

Richard liked the feel of her curled up under his arm, it felt comfortable and natural. He felt connected. He wished they were in her room again, there he would kiss her and stroke her hair but here, this was all they could do. He looked down at Abby, she had closed her eyes. She must have been exhausted, a morning on her feet at work and then an afternoon walking round Atlantic City. She needed her bed and as Tommy came trudging through the sand back to the steps rubbing his tired eyes he realised that he did too. He gently, reluctantly removed his arm from her and she opened her eyes.

"I should get Tommy back. We'll find you a taxi cab" he offered helping her up.

"No, that's fine. I can walk" Abby protested.

"We'll find you a cab" he reiterated. He did not like the idea of her walking home alone. If The Artemis club wasn't on the other side of town he'd walk with her but he had Tommy. Abby unclipped her purse and looked inside. He realised that she was checking to see if she had enough money to pay for a taxi home. "I'll take care of it".

"I can't let you do that. It's really okay" Abby blushed furiously. Richard reached out and closed his hand over hers, snapping her purse shut.

"Abby" he wouldn't brook no argument. She would be going home in a taxi.

Tommy held Richard's hand and they walked a little way to find a cab. Richard opened the door for Abby and helped her inside. He gave her the cash and although he felt awkward about her obvious embarrassment over it he wouldn't have done it any other way. Richard felt increasingly protective over her.

"I had a lovely afternoon today Tommy. Thank you for inviting me" Abby reached out of the window and touched Tommy's cheek with her hand.

"Thanks for the cake" Tommy replied and yawned again.

"Thank you" she told Richard.

"Can I, hmm, see you tomorrow?" Richard asked. Abby nodded.

"I'll be home for 6 O'clock. You can call on me any time after then" she replied. "See you tomorrow Richard".

"Goodbye Abby" he called as the cab drove away.

Richard lay awake in his bed, his hands folded under his head looking up at the ceiling. He wasn't tired at all, despite having to carry Tommy halfway home because he was so sleepy. He spoke to Gillian to ask for a little time off in the evening tomorrow night. She wasn't pleased about it but she conceded eventually, no doubt saving it up to use against him later on. He didn't tell her about Abby, she'd only mock him. She was his and wanted to keep her away from this. He couldn't wait to see her again. To hold her, talk to her even. Upstairs he could hear the unmistakable sound of a headboard rattling against the wall and the over enthusiastic grunts of one of Gillian's _ladies _working hard for her wages. Usually whenever that room was occupied the sound irritated him. Right now it bothered him because she was fresh on his mind. Her arm around him, her body tucked under his and her head resting on his chest. He could still smell her. Arousal shot through him. He closed his eye and saw himself in her room, he imagined her undressing. Easy to do now he'd been there, even helped her do it! The memory fuelled his lust. He recalled touching her back as he unbuttoned that wet dress. He remembered her on her tiptoes and the feel of her soft lips upon his half ruined ones. Her whimper when he let her go. _Jesus Christ_, she wanted him to touch her, to kiss her. He'd never imagined a woman wanting him to but she had. His hand had instinctively wrapped around his arousal and he touched himself. He didn't want to use her this way, not in a bed in a cat house whilst some guy fucked a whore in the room above but he couldn't help himself. It wouldn't be like that he imagined. It wouldn't be like it was with Odette or the time with Evelyn, listening to them feigning pleasure. He thought of her whimper again, quiet and breathy. He imagined his lips on the place he had heard the whores say they liked. He wanted to give her the pleasure first before he took his; he imagined the sounds she'd make then. In his fantasy he felt her sighing into his chest as he had heard her do earlier today and he imagined that it was her hand now and not his own wrapped around him as she worked him to release. He rolled over to his side, his chest heaving; lust spent. He saw his mask upon the night stand. Reality hit him hard. In his fantasy his face was whole.


	7. Chapter 7

Abby had been watching the clock all day anxious to finish work and go home. She wasn't even sure if Richard would come, yes he'd asked to call upon her but their times together usually had long gaps in between. She really did want to see him. She replayed the evening in her room over and over. The feeling of his fingers on her back as he unbuttoned her dress made her knees weak. Abby did not expect to ever swoon, especially not over a bootlegger who wore a tin mask. She had rationalized that this was Atlantic City, everyone knew someone in the trade. Even Joey made his own hooch. Besides Richard was not what she had come to expect from a bootlegger. He didn't frighten her for one. Abby felt sure he could be quite threatening when he had to be but he had never threatened her, never made her cower. He'd given her a little scare when he grabbed her by the wrist on the beach but he'd been instantly contrite and he'd shown her nothing but kindness since. She felt safe in his presence and feeling safe was important to her. He made her feel other things too, things that she never expected to feel. The sight of him, the sound of his rough gravelly voice made her stomach somersault. When he was in her company she wanted to be close to him, she craved his touch. She trusted him.

"_You seeing that Mr Harrow tonight, Peach?" Frances asked her during a particularly quiet moment in the café. _

"_Might be" Abby replied coy._

"_Thought as much the way you keep checking the clock. I hope he treats you right"._

"_We're just friends" Abby blushed._

"_Not the way he looks at you" Frances scoffed. "Look, Cherry and me, well we didn't know whether to say anything to you or not but it seems to me that you and he are heading down a certain road now and I think you oughta know"._

"_Know what?" Abby folded her arms defensively._

"_At the Speak on Saturday, Cherry saw him with a gun" she told her seriously. Abby didn't reply and tried to keep her face blank. "You already know…"_

"_Yes" she confirmed._

"_It doesn't worry you?" _

"_Yes but I…"_

"_You like him?" Frances finished for her. Abby nodded. "You're a sweet girl Peach and he seems like a nice guy but just be careful ok". _

"_Ok"._

At six O'clock, much to Frances' amusement, Abby practically threw off her apron and bounded out of the door. She got home in such a quick succession she was out of breath by the time she'd shut her door behind her. Abby gave herself a quick bath and dressed in a navy pleated skirt and white blouse. She strung some pearls around her neck and looked in the mirror to secure her hair in place. She frowned, she'd lost the bloom she'd had once, along with everything else but he still wanted to see her. She remembered he'd kissed her and it left her dizzy. She hoped he'd kiss her again. Abby didn't know how many times she had plumped the cushions or fussed over the position of the chair. The tick of the clock got louder and louder as she waited and waited for him to come. At eight thirty she decided he wasn't coming after all. Dejected Abby removed the pearls; she pulled off her skirt and undid the blouse. She slipped on her robe and heated some tomato soup for supper, humming a suitable sad tune as she stirred in the pan. When it was warm she curled up in the armchair with the bowl and the book she was in the middle of.

The knock at the door startled her and the book dropped from her lap to the floor. She'd dozed off.

"Just a sec" she called out and yawned and stretched in the armchair. She pulled herself up off the chair; her right leg was dead from where it had been tucked under the left on the armchair. She moved across the room to door when the pins and needles kicked in. _Ouch._ They knocked again. "Who is it?" she called out cautiously.

"It's me" the rough throaty voice was unmistakably Richard's. She unlocked the door but still only opened it to a crack just to make sure. You never could be too careful and sure enough he was standing behind the door, twisting his cap in his hand.

"I didn't know. If it was too late to call" he said simply. Abby pulled her robe together at the top and opened the door wider for him to enter.

"Come in" she invited. She was very conscious of her appearance and the fact she was practically parading around in her undergarments. She was grateful she'd left her stockings on at least. "I must look a fright, I didn't think you were coming and I fell asleep".

"It took me. A little longer, hmm, to get away" he replied. Abby held out her hand to take his hat and coat. "You always look nice".

Abby smiled and laughed as she hung them on the back of the door.

"Such a charmer" she remarked. "Do you want coffee?"

Richard nodded and Abby gestured for him to sit on the armchair as she brewed the pot. Richard asked her if she minded him removing his jacket and tie. She had no objections; she was hardly in a position to argue for proper etiquette and she tried to ignore the thud the jacket made when he placed it on the floor, no doubt his gun was in there; she realised now why he had checked. He asked about her day as they waited for the coffee and she filled him in on the mundane goings on in the café. Omitting Frances' warning of course. She remembered she had taken a few straws from there, she thought it might help with his unease with drinking around her. She poured the coffee and popped one in the cup for him.

"Don't get offended ok, I just thought it seemed like a good idea" she told him as she passed him the drink.

"No, thank you, hmm, it is" he replied. Abby jumped up and sat on the side of the writing desk beside him, her legs dangling; too short to reach the floor. They drank their coffee as Richard told her how much fun Tommy had had with her yesterday and how he has been asking to see her again.

"I'd love to spend the day with you both again. He's a great kid all things considered. He's lucky he has you and his Grandma".

"Hmm" was all he replied. "I'm sorry I was so late. We could have gone, hmm, to the movies".

"Doesn't matter. I'm glad you came anyways. I just like…being with you" Abby admitted.

"You do?" he replied. She saw that he blushed.

"Sure. I mean, you listen to me babble on about stupid stuff and you don't complain or you're too polite to tell me to shut up. You laugh at my dumb jokes. You're kind and considerate and you're patient. You're a bit of an enigma but I'm patient too. And ok, so you have an illegal albeit _interesting _job but you know sometimes I don't always cut a fair sized slice of cake for a customer when I don't like them so I'm not exactly whiter than white either". Richard laughed at her comparison. "And I don't feel like I have to act as much around you" Abby told him, kicking herself for letting that last bit slip out.

"You put up an act around other people?" He inquired.

"We all wear masks Richard" she said confessed sadly.

"Hmm" he said awkwardly looking down at his hands. Abby hopped off the desk and took their empty coffee cups to the sink. She didn't realise he had followed her and was standing behind her. She jumped when she turned around. He didn't say anything but stood over her. He reached for her face and cupped her cheek.

"You don't need to. Act around me, hmm, at all" he assured her. She pressed her face into his rough palm and then she took it and planted a kiss in the centre of it. She led him by the hand back to the arm chair, carefully pushing him down on the cushion. He reached for her and she sat across his lap and he held her. Abby nuzzled his neck and kissed his chin under the tin mask. She brazenly, despite her shaking hands undid the top buttons of his shirt as she kissed down his throat. She felt it vibrate in appreciation; her lips lingered on the scar across it. Richard's hands smoothed up and down her waist with unspoken encouragement. Abby placed her hands either side of his face as she kissed his lips and as she did so she accidentally caught his mask and it dislodged slightly. Richard jerked away and fixed it back into place.

"Sorry" he grunted.

"You can take it off" Abby said and she meant it. Richard shook his head and then turned his face from her.

"I don't. Want to scare you" he admitted sadly. It broke her heart that this man who had shown her kindness and friendship and who made her feel desired would be so ashamed of something that was beyond his control. She didn't care about what was underneath, it didn't change how she felt. She wanted him to feel the longing she had for him. Gently she guided his face back to hers and she kissed him again, stroking his hair and then pulled away to look at him in the eye, for him to see the meaning in hers. Abby traced her finger around the tin mask, Richard allowed her to, though the involuntary clicks that emitted from his throat occasionally had increased to show that perhaps he was uncomfortable with her doing so. She kissed him again, wanting to put him at ease, her fingers stroked along the metal wire of mask. Abby felt his hands leave her waist and he caught her fingers in his hands. He brought her left hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I'll do it" he told her. He unhooked the wire from behind his ear and removed the mask, setting it aside on the on desk. Abby could feel his heart beat quicker in his chest. He looked down at first and then slowly he looked up to face her for the first time, nothing hidden from her. Abby tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible because she knew he'd be scrutinizing it for any hint of shock or revulsion. The skin on his left side was marred by thick, raised angry red scars. There was a deep dark hollow socket where his eye once was and part of his mouth was missing so that it stretched out into the cheek. But then she noticed something else.

"Oh" Abby called out and smiled. Her hand cupped his damaged side and she felt the ridges of the marks. "What a lovely green".

"What?" he asked his voice raspier than usual.

"Your eye. It looks so different when you have your glasses on. It's beautiful" Abby explained. "I never noticed how green it was". Richard looked down shyly and then wiped at his mouth a little with his finger. She reached for him again and kissed the scarred side of his face. He was reluctant to kiss her back at first and she didn't know what came over her when she darted her tongue into his opened mouth. It seemed to provide him with some encouragement because he groaned a little and pulled her further to him on his lap. One of his hands fixed on her neck and the other on the small of her back. He deepened the kiss and Abby was shocked by the sudden thrill of desire that shot through. _Desire and not fear_. She couldn't help but moan into his mouth. Richard's arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted them off the arm chair and dropped her onto the bed.

Her breath quickened both in excitement and nervousness as she felt the bed dip as he knelt beside her. He kissed her hungrily and her heart beat quicker. She reached for the buttons on his vest and fumbled as she undid them, he withdrew from her lips and helped her tug it off and pushed down his suspenders. He paused above her for a moment, watching her.

"Abby…?" he rasped as if he was asking for permission. She nodded in reply. She wanted it to carry on, it felt so good.

Richard undid the tie upon her robe and pushed it apart, she watched as he appraised her body covered now only by her thin cotton undergarments. He carefully lifted her up with one arm and helped her remove the robe fully, letting it drop to the floor. Whilst she was still being lifted he pulled the combs from her hair and let it tumble down before he combed his fingers through the length. Abby shivered and fought to repress a memory.

"Richard" she sighed, saying his name to bring her back. He gently laid her back on the bed and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes as he very slowly rolled down the stocking on her left leg and then carefully pulled it off. His long fingers running down her bare skin as he went. He kissed the inner side of her naked ankle and then he removed the stocking on her right leg, exactly the same. Richard had placed her feet flat on the bed so her knees were raised. She felt his hands smooth up her legs again and then he parted them, settling himself between them. When Richard lowered himself onto her she felt his hardness on her belly. Panic flooded through and her eyes opened. A fretful whimper escaped from her throat. She suddenly felt nauseous.

"You're ok, hmm, don't be afraid" he soothed her, brushing hair from her face. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, she knew he wasn't like that. "I won't…"

"No, I know" she interrupted and she lifted her head off the pillow to kiss him again. She needed to do this. She needed him. He wound his fingers in her hair as he kissed her back, his body pressing into hers. Instinctively she raised her hips off the bed to feel more of him. Abby was certain she heard Richard growl low in his throat at her wanton action. She wanted to be close to him, too feel connected and loved. She could feel the scratchy fabric of his pants against her legs and wondered when he was going to take them off. She moaned into his shoulder as she felt him rub himself against the spot between her thighs. It felt delicious. It was wonderful, all she had to do was forget, push that memory that wouldn't stop niggling her further away.


	8. Chapter 8

Richard unbuttoned his shirt hastily and shrugged it off; he pulled off his undershirt too and tossed it to the floor. He lowered his torso over her, his bare skin catching on the cotton of her chemise. She reached up, held his face in her hands and kissed him again. One of his strong hands stroked alongside the contours her body, Abby's breath hitched as he cupped a breast in his hand. He pulled down the fabric that covered it and he moaned into her mouth at the feel of her hardened nipple as his thumb ran over it. He wanted to feel it with his lips. He withdrew from her mouth and planted kisses along her throat and chest as he moved down towards her breast. He gently kissed the rosy peak and then flicked his tongue across it. Abby shivered and he took this as a positive sign. Richard pulled the chemise further down and lavished some attention on her other breast. The sensation of his scarred side against something so beautiful thrilled him. His hands moved south, over her hips, he caressed her behind, pulling her upwards to meet his hardness. Abby whimpered again and he soothed her with a kiss on the forehead. One of his hands continued in its journey down as the other held onto her waist as firmly as he would allow. He was conscious of how small she was underneath him, how much power his body had over her own at this moment. He knew there was violence in him but she was precious and he didn't want to hurt her.

Richard's hand boldly slid up her inner thigh and pushed them even further apart. Richard showered her throat again with kisses as he gently, ever so gently slipped his fingers under her tap pants and he felt the velvet heat of her.

"You're…perfect" he whispered into her ear and kissed her neck. Abby suddenly froze under him, her body rigid with fear.

"Stop! No. No please stop. I can't, I can't!" Abby called out, pushing against his chest moving him off her. Richard stopped immediately and removed his hand from between her legs. He broke away from her creating a space between them. "Please don't touch me. I can't do this. I'm sorry, I can't". She sobbed before pushing him once more with a greater force and she fled from the bed and ran into the bathroom. He heard Abby throw up into the toilet.

Shaking Richard sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the mask. Heartbroken he secured it to his face and rested his hands upon his thighs to steady himself. His wound, his scar, they had upset her after all. When it had come down to it she had been ultimately disgusted. The dream had ended. But he didn't blame her at all. He could hear her crying in the bathroom. Richard got to his feet, put back on his undershirt and fastened his pants, his arousal lost. He stood behind the bathroom door and gently tapped on the frosted glass.

"Abby? Are you, hmm, okay? I've put the mask. Back on". He heard her break into more sobbing in response. "I understand".

"You don't. You don't understand. Oh it's not you, it's not the mask. It's all my fault. Oh Richard you don't understand" She called out, her breath hitching from in between the sobs.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, the moments before ran through his mind, he was certain he had been as gentle as possible.

"No" she replied immediately.

"I was, hmm, rushing you". He was afraid of that, that he had been pushing her. He tried to let her lead but he had wanted her so much, loved her so much.

"No. I wanted to".

"Tell me. What's wrong?" he felt his stomach twisting, a sickening feeling came over him, she was lying about it not being his mask and now she was too kind to tell him the truth.

"I can't" she cried out again.

"Tell me" he rasped more than usual. Richard twisted the handle, he couldn't bear to hear her like this but she'd locked the door and the room was barred to him. For a moment he thought about breaking the door down but he realised this would only frighten her more. "Abby. Please".

"I'm afraid…if I tell you, it'll change. And you won't want me anymore" she called out.

"Not possible" he assured her. "Whatever it is, hmm, it won't change that".

"Oh Richard but it might", she cried again.

"Let me in Abby", he urged her. He just wanted to hold her. When he didn't hear her move he slid down the wall and sat on the floor with his back to it. He wouldn't leave here until she had told him. He twisted his fingers together anxiously as the silence between them stretched out. Eventually he could hear Abby's breathing calm and settle as she composed herself.

"I thought that I would be okay if I could only forget it". Abby said at length, her voice was raw.

"Forget about what?" Richard replied.

"There was a man…a man that…hurt me" Abby confessed. The knot in his stomach tightened. Richard clenched his fists tightly to try and stem the dark feeling flooding through him now. Whoever it was he'd kill him and he'd take his time.

"I told you I had a brother", she continued.

"Was it him?" he interrupted.

"What? No, not directly. Peter; he was a couple of years older than me, the prodigal son, my parents favorite. When we were younger we got on well enough but things changed".

"Did he fight, hmm, in France?" Richard asked, noting she said she referred to him in the past tense.

"No", he heard her snort in derision. "Only thing he knew how to fight for was the right to do exactly what he liked; drinking, smoking, going to Gin Joints. And he liked to gamble. Fell in with _'bad crowd' _as my daddy liked to say. I went to a Speak with him once or twice, I guess it was exciting but I wasn't like Peter. The shine soon wears off when you've seen the other side. Peter's drinking and gambling got out of hand, he'd disappear for days on end. My parents were worried sick, I could hear my momma crying at night when he hadn't come home again or when he finally showed up covered in bruises because he'd taken a beating for owing money. Peter owed a lot of money, sometimes daddy was able to pay it off. It was so bad he had to sell our house once, can you believe that? And Peter swore he'd stay away from the card games and we would all breathe again. But he always went back. He got into trouble over a debt with a man called Miller and my parents couldn't help him. They didn't have anything left to give. So he came to me…" Abby's voice broke and Richard waited patiently for her to continue almost afraid of what she was going to tell him but he had to hear it.

"They were going to kill him this time I was sure of it. I had never seen him so afraid in all my life. He told me that he'd arranged a deal. Miller had certain preferences. My _inexperience_ had become currency. All I had to do was go to dinner with Miller. Just dinner and the debt would be cleared. That's how he put it. _Dinner. _ I said no. He begged me_. _He got on his knees and begged me. I didn't want to but Peter was my brother and I loved him, despite everything. You'd do anything for your sister wouldn't you?" Abby tried to rationalize it for him. Richard swallowed hard but didn't answer.

"Peter drove me to a house on the waterfront and by the time we got there I had changed my mind…" Abby was crying now and Richard held his head in his hands. He felt so useless listening to her pain. "I told him I was sorry and that I wanted to go home. But he wasn't the brother he should have been, he told me to shut up, he pulled me out of the car and dragged me up the steps and handed me over to some men, complete strangers. He didn't even look back at me as he walked away…"

"Abby open the door" Richard urged her again. He should be comforting her.

"There was at least pretence of a dinner. I was naïve and stupid enough to believe that was all that was required of me. Miller thanked me for coming; he told me I was a good girl for helping my brother out. He pulled me into a room…" she choked up again. Richard got to his feet and tried the handle again.

"Let me in" he rasped.

"He took down my hair, wound it up in his fingers, pulled my head back and kissed me. _I can still feel his hand in my hair_. I kicked and pushed at him. He smacked me across the face and pushed me on the floor. I screamed and I begged him not to…He held his hand over my mouth, told me _I was perfect_" Richard's blood ran cold, that is what he had whispered to her. "He hurt me so much and when it was over he left me on the floor like trash…" Abby keened in painful lament and he could bear no more.

"Abby…" He twisted the door handle violently. "Open the door. Open the door damnit!" He saw her figure rise up from the floor through the frosted pane and edge closer to the door. Hesitantly she unlocked and opened it. He bundled her into his arms without thought and she allowed it, sobbing into his chest as he soothed her as best he could, all the while a murderous rage grew in his mind. He didn't know who he wanted to kill first, her rapist or her brother. After a while her sobs faded and her breathing calmed. Richard gently lifted her chin up so that he might look at her. Her eyes were red raw and puffy and she looked exhausted. Without a word he carefully shepherded her into the bed, pulling the sheets up over her. He drew the armchair up beside the bed and sat down.

"Do you have whiskey?" he asked, his own voice crackled with emotion. Abby shook her head. He brushed her hair away from her face tenderly.

"You can…go…if you want to" she told him.

"I'm not, hmm, leaving you" he replied, reaching over and squeezed her hand. "

"I'm sorry" she lowered her eyes.

"What for?"

"You thought that it was your scar didn't you? That I'd changed my mind because of it" Abby reached out and traced the outline of his mask, he instinctively moved his face away. "I _want_ to see your face when I close my eyes at night. Sometimes his is all I can see looking down at me".

"He won't hurt you again, hmm, no one will" Richard swore to her.

"It was all for nothing in the end" Abby remarked. "As it happened Miller was just the middle man, nothing but a nobody playing at the Big Cheese to get what he wanted. The debt remained unpaid and two weeks later they put a bullet in Peter's head, just below his eye, as he was walking home". Richard thought of the shooter who killed her brother. He knew he'd done the same thing to men in Atlantic City. "I became a ghost and I was constantly afraid of everyone. Everything in Charleston reminded me of it, I could remain there and have half a life or I could leave and start again. I chose to start again. I ran 700 miles to try and forget but you can't outrun the past".

"I understand, hmm, that" he offered in solidarity.

"I suppose you do" Abby squeezed his hand in return. He felt her slide down further in the bed, her body finally relaxing.

"Why did you. Choose Atlantic City?" he wondered aloud.

"Peter had always wanted to come here. It sounds terrible I know but I saw it both as a strange tribute and revenge" she smiled sadly.

"And Miller?" he had to know. He had to; he'd already made his mind up about taking him out. He could never make his mind up if he actually _liked _killing but he was certain he'd enjoy finishing him off. She shrugged in reply. Her eyes were closed and Richard thought she was dozing off. He still held on to her hand and he rested his head forward on the mattress trying to process everything she had told him. Miller was the reason for everything. Why she was reluctant to talk about her past, why she liked to get lost in books, the reason men intimidated her. Richard thought of what it must have taken her to approach him and he admired her courage. He looked back upon their relationship and more often than not she had initiated the contact; the peck on the cheek in the car or reaching for his hand. He was embarrassed that he'd let a young woman so brutalized by a man take all the first steps. Yet honoured that she had chosen him. She was a braver creature than he. Richard was always afraid that, although he'd never purposely harm her, he'd rob her of all of her innocence just by association but someone else had already done that in the worst possible way.

"Richard?" she called quietly and roused him from his thoughts. He lifted his head up and cupped her cheek.

"Yes".

"Will you hold me?" she asked shyly. Richard didn't answer but simply slipped under the blankets beside her. She pressed her body into his easily seeking comfort and rested her forehead on his shoulder. "You can take your mask off if you like; I'm honestly not upset by it". He didn't really want to but did so because she had asked. In that minute he'd have done anything she wanted.

"I don't know when I'll be able to…with you…I can't…I want…" She said, her voice croaking with feeling.

"Ssh. Don't worry,hmm, about that" he reassured her. He would wait. If she could only offer him her friendship he would accept that. She'd make him feel human again; a whole person. She made him believe in love. There was no turning his back on her now, she was his and he'd take whatever she could give him.

"Thank you" she breathed and he felt her relax. "You're a good man".

The words echoed around him until she fell asleep. He knew he wasn't a good man but he was sure he would always be good to her.


End file.
